A Viking For The Viscountess Read Online Free PDF Page A

wasn’t dressed like anyone she’d ever seen. His woolen tunic was dun-colored, made in a primitive fashion. He wore darker trousers, a fur mantle across his shoulders, and leather braces upon his forearms. His dark eyes stared down at her with a hunger that made her shiver. He walked onto the shore with confidence, his leather boots striding through the sand. At his waist hung a long sword and a battle-ax. Arik Thorgrim almost reminded her of a…a Viking.
    Strange to imagine it.
    Her dog, Bartholomew, came dashing from the house, barking when he saw them. Behind him came Harry, but Grelod caught the boy in her arms before he could break free. The older woman’s eyes widened as she spied the man at Juliana’s side.
    “Mama!” Harry shouted. “Where were you? And who is that?”
    “Your mother went for a walk, as I told you,” Grelod interrupted. “And found someone, I see.” Strangely, the woman didn’t seem at all worried or surprised that Juliana had been gone all night.
    “It’s a long story.” She didn’t know how to explain any of it, but it could wait until later. She opened her arms, and Harry came running into them. Relief flooded through her that she’d made it home safely to her son. She lifted him up, embracing him hard until he squirmed to get down. Mr. Thorgrim kept his distance, making it clear that he intended no harm to either of them. And though she ought to be relieved by that, his presence threatened her in a different way. He was so unlike any of the gentlemen she’d ever met—so bold and domineering. It had been all too easy to succumb to the reckless desire he’d kindled, surrendering herself to needs she hadn’t known were there.
    “Who is that?” Harry demanded, staring at the man. “He looks like a beggar.”
    “Hush, now.” Juliana touched her son’s mouth. “That isn’t a polite thing to say.” While Mr. Thorgrim did indeed resemble a beggar, her son needed to mind his manners.
    Harry tilted his head back to stare at the stranger. Thorgrim crossed his arms over his chest as if inspecting her son, in turn. While the man’s expression was unyielding, his demeanor softened in front of the boy. Almost as if he’d remembered a child’s curiosity.
    Bartholomew was jumping up, still barking, and the man knelt, resting his palm upon the dog’s head. Immediately, the animal quieted.
    “Are you magic?” Harry breathed. He seemed enchanted at the prospect.
    “His name is Mr. Thorgrim,” Juliana said. “And he does not speak English.” She touched Harry’s hair and murmured, “Go on now, back into the house.” But her son didn’t move, for he was fascinated by the stranger.
    Already she could see that Thorgrim was studying her house as if he believed he ought to stay here with her. She had to dissuade him of that notion as soon as possible. But before she could speak, he reached out to his belt and withdrew a knife. Now what was he doing with that? The iron blade gleamed in the morning sun, and it looked sharp enough to slice through paper. He eyed Harry and then offered him the knife, hilt first.
    “What are you doing?” Juliana demanded in his language.
    “It is a gift, in thanks for your hospitality. Your son does not have a blade of his own, so I will give him mine.”
    “He’s five years old!’ Juliana protested. “He doesn’t need a knife.”
    “Then how will he learn to defend himself? Or hunt?” Thorgrim nodded permission, and Harry reached out toward the hilt.
    “You will not touch that knife,” Juliana said, pushing it away. The longer she spent time in this man’s company, the more she realized how uncivilized he was. What sort of person would give a five-year-old boy a deadly blade? She knew almost nothing about him, except that he behaved like a barbarian and…and he’d driven her mad with his touch. Almost as if he’d bewitched her into becoming a different woman.
    She had to make him leave as soon as possible.
    After guiding Harry behind